Singing Mothers and Storytellers

When I first saw thestorytellers and singing mothers, I fell in love with them right away. Daughter #1 attended ASU in AZ. While she was there, we visited the Grand Canyon, the Painted Desert, Montezuma’s Castle, Sedona and the Heard Museum in Phoenix. I first saw the storytellers at the Heard Museum. Then, they caught my eye in the gift shops and galleries. I marveled at the detail and the love given in painting their faces, the faces and bodies of the children crawling all over them and the hand crafted sculpture.

After several visits to Phoenix and feeling a deeper connection to AZ, I told Daughter #1 “I’d like to find a storyteller that I can take home. It may take a while to find the right one.”

“I know where we can go,” she offered. So she took me to a group of charming shops and galleries. We walked in and out of several. We returned to a few. We got in the car and went a few more streets over. We walked into more shops, made conversation with the shopkeepers and owners, viewed other treasures and searched. We saw many and marveled at them all. I slept on it and made my decision.

“I think we should go to where we first parked,” I said. “Let’s go back to the shop on the corner.”

She knew and she drove me back. “She’s a singing mother” the shopkeeper explained. “The women are ‘singing mothers’ and the men are ‘storytellers’.” I made my purchase and was very satisfied with our choice.

For several years our singing mother has occupied a spot in the bookshelves by the fireplace. I can eye her while I enjoy the fire in winter, watch TV, work on the laptop or read. Sometimes I get up close and study each and every figure from the front, the back and the sides. Sometimes I lift her up to see the artist’s name painted on the bottom and smile at the thought of her inspiration. I like her Spanish name.

Later after our grandson was born, Daughter #1 took a trip out west. She brought back not one but three more singing mothers for me.

How I loved that my daughter thought of me in such a meaningful way. I’m so glad she was part of our search and remembered it. Our singing mother sits among more company now.

M. Ellen Toya, Back view, georgettesullins.wordpress.com

Side view, M. Ellen Toya, georgettesullins.wordpress.com

Here are the singingmothers in their new home by the fireplace in the country.
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The original artist of these sought after pieces is Helen Cordero who created her first piece in 1964. She was a member of Cochiti Pueblo and made them in tribute to her grandfather, a “storyteller” at her Cochiti Pueblo.

“Unable to fashion pottery vessels in a manner with which she could be satisfied, she changed her course to figurative pottery, rather than give up altogether. Little did she know that she was starting a new tradition and changed the course in Pueblo pottery production. Now, all the Pueblos make storyteller figurines—not just Cochiti Pueblo. A storyteller made by her is to be a treasured item in any collection.” Adobe Gallery

I treasure my Mary Ellen Toya Jemez Pueblo piece. She has taught her daughter Judy her craft. Her daughter Judy favors creating storytellers and she is also, known for her Nativities and Christmas ornaments. I like the generational aspect of this art form, mother teaching daughter. I love the generational figures on all the varied pieces you can find in New Mexico and Arizona: mothers, grandmothers, fathers, grandfathers, couples and of course, children, sometimes animals.

Looking at these mothers almost daily, is a reminder to practice bringing song and storytelling into our home. It helps us, prepare for the challenges of life: disappointment, fear, anger, embarrassment, temptation, impatience, pain, sickness, grief and death. I want to delight and find peace in the songs and stories that strengthen my faith to face life’s problems, in joy, celebration, gifts, happiness, good times, friendship, patience, good health, healing, birth and growing in maturity with humility. The singing mothers and the artists who have created them are so humble and constant.

When the routine of a household becomes stale or stagnant, I want my family to know that songs and stories are welcome in our home. Sometimes our spirit needs to be renewed, not just once a year at Christmastime, Easter or family birthdays, but often at the dinner table, reunions or any gathering. I want to encourage renewal and growing in faith at every opportunity. They are permissible. It is a wonderful license to feel joyful, to feel the confidence of not allowing others to steal our joy. Songs and stories open up refreshing ways to talk with each other inside and outside our family circle.

What songs do these mothers sing? The songs they sing is not the point. That they sing is important. During this season of Christmas, we are familiar with the Christmas music that surrounds us. Why play it? Why sing it? We have heard some songs hundreds of times. But being familiar with the various arrangements, knowing how it begins, plays out and ends is not the point either. The point is to experience it, each individual rendition, generations of adaptations.

The singing mother registers no complaint of not being able to sing, of an aching back, of shooing away annoying children or having other things to do. Similarly, the child figures are not bored. I hear the children ask “Sing the song about…” And while she sings, I don’t think they are asking her to sing a different song. They are content to play, cling to their mother, be together and listen. In repeating this ritual, they feel the constancy of being secure in her lap. They learn her words, the words of her parents before her. They experience love and being loved. They experience all this while the singing mother sits content and calm as generations of mothers before her singing over her children.

It’s amazing these caught on in our generation, that the first were made by Helen Cordero in 1964 and 1965. I’d like to see others from other Pueblos.

Glad you found a group to sing with tonight. What a perfect season to make connections and sing. Rick is singing this morning, so we’ll be leaving soon to sing carols again. It started with the “hanging of the greens” after Thanksgiving.

I’m so glad you like it. The photo credit goes to Rick. He just took this last week of the calves frolicking altogether and then I thought of all the activity of the children crawling on the Singing Mothers. I knew this would be this week’s header when I saw it. He kindly gave me permission to use. 🙂

So sweet. I have not found a thing for a long time that I would be interested in collecting but Singing Mothers call to me. I have a friend that taught on a Hopi reservation in Arizona, can’t help but wonder what she will say about them. Love the mother with all the teeny babies in her arms and on her head! Good Morning Georgette!

I remember traveling to Arizona on business long ago and first encountering this art. It’s really beautiful, and I’m all for promoting storytelling and music through other art mediums. You’ve got quite a collection, Georgette. How nice of you to honor this art form on the fiftieth anniversary of the original piece that Helen Cordero made. 🙂

Oh, my – you have me in tears with this one. Had never heard of the singing mothers before but your description, your storytelling, of their history & what you see in them … well, it brought a tears to my eyes thinking about all the moms, all the children, all the stories & songs shared through the years. Alone with my children & grandchildren are the only times I am completely uninhibited and will sing my kings out, dance like a fool, & read the most expressively. Thank you for sharing this beautiful perspective on life & living it fully.

Before this post, I had never seen or heard of singing mothers. What a concept! I especially like the photo of the “mother” near the end with the painted orange cheeks. Years ago I visited the painted desert, another kind of beauty.

Rick and I were captivated by southwestern art with each visit west where we sought out museums like the Heard in Phoenix and the art galleries in Sedona and Scottsdale. It truly is a different corner of our world that explains a lot about our Native American heritage.

Love, love love this post! I think ( I know) I’m currently in a funk, which has caused me to taper off on writing…much of the stuff flittering around in my head has tended to be dark, and I figure there is enough of that in the world so I keep it to myself. I need a new song. thanks for the gentle reminder. DM

You would love the Grand Canyon, Sedona and Phoenix or New Mexico. It’s a breath of fresh air because the land forms and the art it inspires are so different from the East, South, or Midwest. Perhaps you have already been there.

I love these. For many years, entertainment came strictly from storytelling, singing, music, and dance….and even today these are the basics. These singing mothers depict the love and joy these mothers give and pass through their children.Now, I want one!

As lovely as the pottery figures are, what caught me was your assertion that it’s not the song that counts, but the singing. So true. I still remember, and can hear in my mind, the lullaby that my mother used to sing to me.– Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “Sweet and Low.” Bette Midler does a fine job of it, and just hearing the tune again takes me directly back to the room, the white rocking chair with the maroon cushion, and so on.

That’s what makes the figures come so alive for me. They capture the act of singing – quite different from just reading lyrics. The words are the same, but the result is entirely different. After all — those herald angels didn’t send a text. They sang!

Thank you for the link. It’s beautiful. I do love Bette Midler’s rendition of almost anything, especially “Wind Beneath My Wings.”

After the feline carols this weekend, I’m sure you could create some techno-savy carols. You may have already started a file. “Hark the Herald Angels text…” Oh my! or “Silent Night, my computer’s on, don’t bother me, I’m logged on”♪♫♪ I better stop.

I’m the wrong one for that job, Georgette. Remember — I’m the one who has chosen not to Facebook, Instagram, text, LinkIn, etc. Good parodies require knowledge enough to make lyrics work — I know cats, but I don’t know tech!

Oh my, lady. So good to hear from you! I apologize for not visiting your site. We moved to the farm – check out the Good Fences meme on my side bar, and the “What I didn’t miss” last month that explains. I’m treading water leading two lives + my professional life now.

Yes, the singing mothers and storytellers are definitely something to look for in the Native American Art galleries. Do you have them in galleries in the Pacific Northwest? Like the saguaro though, they’re probably only in AZ and NM.